A dream of mine flew over the mead
   To the halls where my old Love reigns;
And it drew me on to follow its lead:
   And I stood at her window-panes;

And I saw but a thing of flesh and bone
   Speeding on to its cleft in the clay;
And my dream was scared, and expired on a moan,
   And I whitely hastened away.

In a dream unto me came
Anacreon, of Teian fame.
He accosted me, and I
Ran up to him lovingly,
And my arms about him threw.
Old he was, but fair to view,
Fair, a lover of the vine;
His stain'd lip yet breath'd of wine.
Falteringly he seem'd to tread;
(Love his trembling footsteps led;)
Crowned was his brow, and he
Held the garland out to me,
Of Anacreon it breath'd:
Straight my forehead (fool!) I wreath'd;
And from that time till today
I by love am plagued alway.

Not long ago, in a charming dream,
I saw myself -- a king with crown's treasure;
I was in love with you, it seemed,
And heart was beating with a pleasure.
I sang my passion's song by your enchanting knees.
Why, dreams, you didn't prolong my happiness forever?
But gods deprived me not of whole their favor:
I only lost the kingdom of my dreams.

WHY do you shudder and stare,
Grown cold in a moment and white?
The moon's at her full, and the air
Is flooded with wonderful light.
There is never a sound or a sign
Or a shadow of harm in the trees,
And the little leaves ripple and shine
At the kiss and caress of the breeze.
You tremble and shudder, my love,
As a hare at a hound's flashing fangs —
As a bird, when in azure above
A poising hawk motionless hangs.
Fear not, and the terror shall yield
To peace and to sweetness at length;
My love is a guard and a shield,

The dog lies in his kennel,
And Puss purrs on the rug,
And baby perches on my knee
For me to love and hug.
Pat the dog and stroke the cat,
Each in its degree;
And cuddle and kiss my baby,
And baby kiss me.

The truth I do not stretch or shove
When I state that the dog is full of love.
I've also found, by actual test,
A wet dog is the lovingest.

To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
All pray in their distress;
And to these virtues of delight
Return their thankfulness.

For Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
Is God, our father dear,
And Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
Is Man, his child and care.

For Mercy has a human heart,
Pity a human face,
And Love, the human form divine,
And Peace, the human dress.

Then every man, of every clime,
That prays in his distress,
Prays to the human form divine,

This is the dirty laundry poem-
because we have traveled from town to town
accumulating soiled linen & sweaty shirts
& blue-jeans caked & clotted with our juice
& teeshirts crumpled by our gloriously messy passion
& underwear made stiff by all our joy.

I have come home to wash my clothes.
They patter on the bathroom floor like rain.
The water drips away the days till you.
The dirty water speaks to me of love.

Steamy in the bubbles of our love,
I have plunged my hands into hot water
as I might plunge them

Deserted of her Spouse, she sat lamenting in the chamber.

Hast thou gone and left me,
Void of faults but strictly true?
Fly far away
Without delay,
Adieu, my love, adieu.

Hast thou gone and left me,
Hence to seek another bride?
I must be still,
Thou hast thy will,
The world is free and wide.

Only hadst thou told me
Ere I drunk the bitter cup,
I could with shame,
Now bear the blame,
And freely give thee up.

But I'm left to ponder,
Now in the depth of sorrow's gloom;

The dew cometh
from heaven down!
It bringeth heavenly
peace for all.
It wetteth all with sweetness.
Invisible,
it raineth deep into souls.
It raineth love
and peace and joy.
It raineth sweetness.
Dew! dew! my comrades!
It is the season
of the cooling dew!
The dew is falling everywhere,
And wet is every rose.
The gentle breath
of heaven blows.